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Author: Guede Mazaka
Rating: NC-17. Kink, but fluffy ones (i. e. fabu's wall-kink, in spades).
Pairing: Permutations of Jack/James/Will/Elizabeth/Anamaria.
Feedback: Much enjoyed.
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Notes: Anamaria occasionally switches to French; translations on request. Crossover with AU Goldeneye where Alec wasn't a traitor. *words*
Summary: Will and Elizabeth want a nap. Unfortunately, James' superiors have decided to stop by, which makes no one happy.
***
"Oh, oh, Christ-" Elizabeth caught at the hook in the dressing room wall and wrenched it till the screws creaked. Her knees trembled, but she determinedly forced them to stay open so she wouldn't clamp onto Anamaria's industriously bobbing head. She slapped her other wrist into her mouth and bit down into her rising scream.
Below, the hot streak twined inside, then slid out as fingers slipped in and danced about the edges. Teeth got their quick moment, and Elizabeth wobbled, fell-snapped off the hook and startled herself back up. She wasn't really sure how that had happened, given that her muscles were completely jellified.
"Fair's fair, fille." A smug Anamaria grabbed onto Elizabeth and slowed her collapse, then dressed her limp body while she simply tried to find out where her breath had gone. "Y'went an' attacked m'this mornin' in th'backseat."
"Leather…miniskirt!" Elizabeth managed, mildly accusing.
A stuttering knock timidly cut off Anamaria's reply, and Will's hesitant voice floated through the door. "Ah…are you done yet? The saleswoman is looking a bit suspicious."
"Un moment," Anamaria called back while throwing on clothes and straightening hangers at lightning speed. She picked up the hook from the floor, sighed, and paused. "Will? Y'wouldn' happen t'have any tools wi' you?"
A screwdriver promptly passed over the top of the door. "I don't want to know."
"'course you do." Elizabeth hastily saw to her hair, then edged out of the stall to lean heavily onto Will, whose expression was a fascinating cross between annoyed resignation and manfully-suppressed curiosity. "I want to know why you always grab an extra tube of lube whenever Jack makes you go shopping with him-"
"Liz!" Will had a beautiful blush. One of many reasons why she loved him.
"-oh, stop worrying. The saleswoman's just jealous that I have a boyfriend who'll actually go clothes-hunting with me. And you don't register on the-" yawn "-gaydar, so she's completely…Will?" She poked at his stiffened face. "Are you dying on me?"
He started, then shook his head and nuzzled her ear. "Possibly. Nice to know I don't give out that vibe, though. Then I'd never be able to-" bigger yawn than hers "-go cruising the Strip on Friday-ow!"
He stumbled back from Anamaria's fingerflick to his temple and muttered nastily as he took the screwdriver back. Then both he and Elizabeth staggered into yawns at the same time as the three of them divided up the bags. "Mon Dieu," the older woman said in a marveling tone. "Y'look like zombies, walkin' like that."
"Not like you're in any position to talk," Elizabeth half-heartedly grumbled. "Seeing as you got to actually sleep last night. Stupid computers and stupid flus that kept any other techies from coming in to help Will, and stupid paperwork that I had to do." She perked up. "Though it was fun when he got stuck in the wires arse-up, and Jack decided to take advan-"
Will kissed her into the wall, then firmly grabbed her hand and led them out into the main part of the mall. His ears were scarlet. "Ignore her. She gets way too talkative when she's exhausted."
"Well, you get way too experimental." She sniffed haughtily, much to Anamaria's apparent amusement. "Now I'm never going to be able to use a mouse again without giggling."
***
Perfectly polished shoe tips walked into Jack's line of vision, then walked back out. Then they came back, paused and began to move away. A little exasperated, he seized an ankle and yanked, then crawled out of the mess of data to discover James on the floor, glaring and rubbing at his hip. Very nice suit today, Jack noticed. Cuff links and tiepin. Hair as perfect as the shoes. Jack's hand instinctively went out to muss it all up, but was intercepted halfway there. "What?"
"I need to ask you for a favor." Snippy Norrington, who didn't even offer Jack a hand up.
"Well, why aren' y'askin'?" Jack asked in a reasonable tone. Instead of being equally gentlemanly, James set himself into a chair like he was putting down an antique porcelain teapot and scowled at the table. He looked like he was about to shoot something, which was unusual for him. Generally speaking, James was cool and calm, and the enemy had not the faintest idea with whom they were dealing until the clean-up crews had arrived to deal with the wreckage. In fact, he only got like this when-"Hell. You have bigwigs coming and you're only telling me now? Damn it, Jaime-and damnation. Why didn't Langley let me know?"
"They don't know, and I didn't know till this morning." James seemed to realize the impression he was giving and was fast assuming a devastatingly apologetic demeanor. "Jack, I'm sorry. I would have told you if I had known, but…I'm sorry?"
Ridiculously green eyes, Jack suddenly remembered. They were practically shimmering up at him, and hands had somehow fastened themselves to his hips. Rubbing little circles-wait. James never offered public anything unless he was drunk, or extremely angry, or he needed to borrow the whelp for complicated top-level analysis. Jack growled and huffily sat down on James' lap. "Who is it? That poker-spined superior of yours-M?"
"And Bond and Trevelyan," James muttered, resting his head against Jack's chest. "They're doing something in Cuba, and they need a few things to be hacked, more or less overnight. Which none of mine can do that fast. They also need some information on side-effects of certain drugs, and Elizabeth's the resident expert, so…"
"You want both of them?" Jack scooted out of the exploring hands so he could deliver a proper glare.
"Just for the night-and Jack, it's not as if I'm offering up virgin sacrifices. They're not even leaving the city." James pulled Jack back and buried his face in Jack's neck, continuing to beg between kisses. "Please…I know…still owe your team…for the last time…but I do need…"
Entirely too good at this, James was. As he squirmed and maneuvered his hands inside James' coat, Jack wondered if maybe he'd been too bad of an influence on the other man. Then his wrists were captured and removed, he was unceremoniously tossed onto the table, and Jack knew that he had done wonderful job of loosening up James' internal corset.
"…know they're tired from last night…" Swish, and Jack's pants were down. James thoroughly lapped his way around Jack's rising cock and nibbled at all the other tender spots there until Jack had forgotten about getting the scratchy papers out from under him. Lovely, lovely lips wrapping around him and sucking and God, there went his mind. Liquefying and then drizzling down his nerves to be so nicely attended to by James.
Jack wrestled himself up so he could stroke a hand down the other man's face. He propped the other behind him, then had to forcibly pry it off a stack of files when James ever-so-slowly pulled off. "HQ's being a bastard this time, but Jack, I can't-"
"Yes, y'damn well can." Jack yanked out James' hair-tie and knotted his fingers in the loose long strands, then shoved James back. "All right, all right, y'can borrow 'em. But there're conditions-oh, Mary an' Joseph an' Christ."
Swirling tongue over and under, and then James pinned down Jack's bucking hips. He abandoned finesse for pure brain-melting swallowing, which squeezed and heated until Jack finally lost all touch with reality and came. Hard, and jerking at James' hair, though the other man bore up and didn't make any sound of protest. Jack crawled to the edge of the table and contritely massaged the other man's head. "Sorry, Jaime. So how long are y'keepin' them?"
"Shouldn't be more than the evening." James wiped at his mouth, then absently licked off his fingers. He glanced over himself with a half-bemused, half-irritated expression. "Damn. I need to change."
And something else, Jack noticed as his sight drifted a little lower. He pounced, sending the other man backwards onto the floor, and proceeded to help James with that problem. Wouldn't do to add to the man's worries, after all.
***
Will blinked and stared at the cell in his hand, then gave it to Elizabeth. "Here. Ask James what we're doing tonight and see if it makes sense. I think I'm too tired."
Like manna from heaven, Anamaria plopped down a full pot of freshly-brewed French Market-style coffee onto the table. Will's hand rammed away Elizabeth's, then dodged the retaliatory claw to plaster onto the handle. Which was ripped away as Anamaria rescued the teetering pot and directed a scolding look at both of them. Not saying a word, she poured them both a mug and then sashayed back into the kitchen.
Elizabeth giggled, her customary bubbling tone slightly blurred by exhaustion. "I feel like I'm back at boarding school…oh, sorry, Jaime. What'd you say?"
Silence while they contentedly guzzled their coffee. Elizabeth hmm'd into the cell and put down her cup, then sat bolt upright in Will's lap. "What!"
"So we are helping with MI6," Will muttered as he sloshed himself another mug of java. "Do we at least have any time for naps?"
"No." She rubbed at her reddened eyes and then at her temple as she snapped at the phone. "James, honestly. We don't mind doing this, but a little notice would be-yes, I understand your position. But…they asked for us by name? What the hell have you been putting in those reports?! We're CIA, all right? We do not answer to your beck-and-Will!"
"Go finish your coffee." He turned his shoulder to the elbowing, then cupped his hand around the cell he'd just snatched away and whispered, "James? Hey, sorry about that. Lizzie's a lot less polite and…um, a lot more expressive when she's short of sleep."
*I noticed. Look, Will, I truly wouldn't be asking if I didn't--*
"S'all right, we'll be there." Another jaw-cracker was sneaking up on him, so Will took a moment to slouch back and gulp air. "Just need a few more shots of caffeine, and then I can probably drive…"
"Over m'dead body, con." Anamaria stalked back in, Will's and Elizabeth's equipment bags swinging from her shoulders. "It's rush hour, an' y'can't even grab y'rself coffee, let alone drive in Miami. I'll take you."
*I heard. See you in a few minutes.* James barely allowed time for Will to return the goodbye before he hung up. Which was rather weird.
"Donwannadamnitsleepy," Elizabeth mumbled into Will's shoulder as she determinedly cuddled them to the chair, which effectively distracted Will's already spotty attention.
He and Anamaria spent the next fifteen minutes prying Elizabeth off and coaxing her into the car, whereupon Anamaria's driving effectively shocked them all back to fixedly wide-eyed consciousness. "Jesus. Did you almost sideswipe an eighty-year-old?" Will blankly asked.
"So? She insulted Maman." Still seeming a bit touchy about that, Anamaria herded him and Elizabeth into James' MI6 offices.
***
"And what about the Cuban address for the ISP?" Trevelyan purred.
Will, who was draining coffee by the pot, didn't seem to notice the way the blond was smashing their personal space bubbles into each other. Neither did an equally-drowsy Elizabeth, who was being quizzed by an equally flirtatious Bond. A thought about where James had picked up the phrase "personal space bubble" briefly flitted through his mind, but was swiftly drowned out by the frustrated anger currently gritting his teeth together.
"Norrington." The small, hard-faced woman next to him momentarily softened to let a trace of commiseration onto her face. But the next instant M was all business as she flicked through a sheaf of papers. "Your team only seems to build upon its reputation for thorough, reliable and timely work."
Across the table, Bond hastily turned his flinch into an offered cup of juice. Elizabeth accepted it with a vague smile that apparently encouraged Bond into lightly touching her shoulder to draw her attention to his pompous, oily ego-"
M pointedly cleared her throat and whapped James' arm with a folder. "However, you seem to spend a great deal of your time collaborating with Sparrow. While I appreciate the uncommon lack of rivalry between the CIA and MI6 in this region, I do have to wonder…"
"I assure you that I hold to the utmost standard of discretion in all our dealings," James interrupted, fighting down the urge to rub the stiffness out of his voice. And neck and shoulders, for that matter. He had been on his feet all day, placating various people and reprimanding others in preparation for this visit, which had dragged far beyond its intended end time. He needed a rest. He needed for Bond and Trevelyan to stop draping all over his-over Will and Elizabeth. "The Caribbean's a wide, diverse intersection of activity, madam. Without cooperating to the extent that Sparrow and I have, neither of us would be able to accomplish a quarter of the work we presently do."
She nodded and made thoughtful noises, which put James even more on his guard. "I see that we haven't raised your budget in five years, yet you've managed to increase your output."
"London? I used to live there, and it was a hellhole. Why would I want to go back?" Will abruptly blurted out, voice a little too loud and strained. James turned around just in time to see Elizabeth flop back into Will's arms, and both of them back away from a nonchalant Trevelyan.
Bond came over to stand by his partner, smiling in what could be considered a repentant manner. Frankly, all it did was deepen James' suspicion that this meeting was not going anywhere it was supposed to. Or anywhere he would want it to.
Elizabeth wiggled her fingers in an insulting gesture as she cuddled into Will. "No. I never liked being nobility anyway-it's all stupid etiquette and estate taxes. So you can take your offer and shove it up your-"
Will slapped a hand over her mouth and turned an alarmed face toward James, but it was already too late.
"They've built quite a reputation for themselves," M remarked. Her composure showed faint fracture lines after a few moments of being subjected to James' silent ire. "And they were born in Britain. Of course I would offer them a position."
"No." James carefully put his hands on the back of the nearest chair and locked fists around the metal top so he wouldn't accidentally strangle anyone. Body disposal here might be a little messy, and it'd be unfair to Gillette, who currently had that unenviable duty. "They said no, and I'm saying no, and I am sure that the CIA, on whose payroll they are, would also say no. Not under any circumstances."
As he spoke, James shot a glance across the table. Will and Elizabeth slanted looks back, then slipped around the side of the table so they stood right behind him. Before him, M's face was impassive, though she appeared to be intently listening.
She was an intelligent person, and she should be able to understand that James would allow absolutely no kind of coercion in this kind of matter. Though she might not realize the lengths to which he was willing to go to rectify the issue, should any of that happen. Certainly Bond and Trevelyan wouldn't-and while James had great respect for them as colleagues, he didn't ignore their eccentricities. Or their constant disregard of the basic tenets that governed human relations.
"Everything he said," Will seconded as he slumped into James' right side. "Not to cast stones at Liz's and my birth places, but we really prefer the American intelligence service."
"And there's no hope of changing your mind?" Trevelyan's imploring expression was very convincing-James had to give him that, even though the personal aspect to 006 and 007's partnership had become a byword in the intelligence community for inseparable chaos.
"No," Elizabeth said, the dampening effect of her firm tone only slightly spoiled by a tiny yawn.
"I see you've made your decision," M replied, but she was looking at James. Something deep and gray shadowed the backs of her eyes, and then it was replaced by a grudging respect. "For the best, I suppose. Given their affinity for disorder." She glanced over at Bond and Trevelyan, who'd apparently lost interest in the discussion and were busy edging toward the nearest washroom. "I already have more of that than I need."
Will flopped a hand onto James' shoulder and tugged. He gave a winsome smile as Elizabeth and he ushered James out the door. "Well, it was an honor to finally meet you, M. But it's late, and we seem to have addressed everything-"
"-I'm sure that Groves or Gillette could see to any little quibbles you may have," Elizabeth finished, the up-curve of her mouth a good deal sharper. "Now, we're in no condition to be driving, so Ja-Norrington here-"
M peremptorily cut off the excuses with a wave of a file. Her jaw remained stiff, but her eyes had a very, very slight twinkle. "Of course. I would remind Commander Norrington about the rules governing interagency relations, but…"
Muffled thumpings from the direction in which 006 and 007 had gone. James added dry-cleaning to his mental to-do list, nodded at M, and got Will and Elizabeth out of the room before the last of their professionalism passed out. Which actually happened in front of another conference room, so he was able to haul them out of sight before Gillette came by. "Sir?"
James surreptitiously nudged Will's knee a little further into the room. "The main part of the meeting is over, so I'm taking Turner and Swan back. I'd appreciate it if you saw to the wrap-up-oh, and tell Groves that he may need to interrupt the back washroom in an hour or so."
"Interrupt the back washroom?" A good-sized dollop of confusion bent the perpetually snotty tilt of the other man's nose.
On the floor, a hand lazily wrapped around James' ankle. "He'll know what I mean," he hurriedly explained. "I'll see you tomorrow."
"Sir!"
James managed to save his wince for when Gillette was out of hearing distance; no matter how long or how much he worked at the other man, his subordinate still insisted on clicking heels as if he were still in the armed services.
But there wasn't much time to dwell on that, given the sharp yank on James' leg. He'd been expecting it, so he let himself go down on one knee, then came back up with a scooped Elizabeth in his arms. In between pouts, she pecked messy kisses all over his face. "Honestly, Jaime. I thought you were above all that testosterone nonsense."
"Almost as bad as Jack," Will snickered, though that quickly turned into a gasp when James grabbed the other man's elbow and shoved him into the wall alongside Elizabeth. "James…?"
"If I hadn't made the message very clear, they would have cheerfully taken to drastic measures. Considering the way they neglect us for the double-o agents, I don't appreciate their sudden, misguided attempts to meddle in my territory." Skirt on her today, which made things much easier. Figuring out which of the chains of Will's pants actually needed to be undone took another moment, but by now James had had quite a bit of practice in that.
Elizabeth's hand shot out and clutched at his shoulder as she threw back her head; her other palm was stuffed sideways into her mouth to muffle the moans. Will opted for a white-knuckled grip on a nearby stack of chairs, and he bit into his lower lip until the blood started to come. The sight of red shocked James out of his mood and he softly cursed, then craned to suck at the wounded lip.
In consequence, Elizabeth smacked him on the ribs and rummaged in his pockets. Fingers liberally explored the cloth-enclosed space, digging deep enough to brush against his hardening cock, and then glided out with a triumphant "Ah ha! I knew it was there."
"Shut up and squirt already," Will hissed as he wriggled and tightened around the sole finger James had worked into him. "Fuck, fuck...wouldn't be a problem if Jack had come home on time the past few…"
"You two haven't been sleeping toge-Christ!" James suppressed a grimace at the cold slickness that abruptly glopped onto both of his hands and concentrated on awkwardly coating his fingers with it. Elizabeth sank nails through his suit, then plunged down. Her eyes rolled back a little as she seemed to swallow up two more fingers. "Elizabeth!"
"Yes, it's been a few weeks. And they've both been annoyed that they couldn't screw into the-" blond locks whacking both men "-oh, God, Jaime-"
As if it were a competition of which James was only nominally in charge, Will twisted so a second fingertip nudged inside. Sweat sheening his brow, he gasped swears in at two languages until the full three were settled within him. "Not fair, Liz-you've got Anamaria-and Jesus fucking…James…"
"Right here, listening to you two bicker after nearly being kidnapped back to Britain," James replied in a wry tone. He watched with interest how identical flicks and twists produced wildly different effects on Will and Elizabeth: she alternated between long high coos and wild bucking, while he maintained a steady but highly appealing wriggle-and-groan.
Elizabeth laughed, bright and breathless. She caught herself on the last rolling chuckle, mouth stretching in a huge gasp, and rocked into James one last, fierce time before collapsing against the wall. One moment of rest, and then she choked off a keen when James carefully removed his fingers. Her eyes sparkled drowsily as she slipped down onto the floor. "Claim-marking…I feel like a fire hydrant. Or I would, and be pissed as hell about it if I weren't so tired."
With an obvious effort, Will kicked down his pants to where she could wrench them over his shoes, then hauled himself up to lock legs around James' waist. His hands fumbled James' trousers open and briefly teased James' erection before helping it into himself. "Don't be...stupid, Liz. He's got more class…than-than-oh, shit. Fuck. More. Fuck."
"Amen," James growled, trying to get a proper grip on shifting, jerking, jolting hips. And he was shoving in and out of cinched hot silk, his face buried against the fast-fluttering pulse in Will's throat. He nipped at that patch of skin, felt it tremble on his lips and pushed deeper. Harder.
"God, we are never-you hear me-never leaving, and-oh-" The other man's voice degenerated into an incoherent mishmash of languages, while beneath them, Elizabeth's breath began to speed up again. James wondered why he was still noticing all of this. But then Will did something that tore the bottom out of the world, and he was much too busy convincing his knees to keep them upright to bother.
Long, long fall, and two pairs of hands to help tiredly stroke him back to life. James slowly searched out his breath and forced his limp arms to get Will down without dropping the other man. "I believe you," he murmured into the space between Will's shoulder and Elizabeth's breast. "I just don't believe them."
"Well, not a problem now, is it?" Gentle sarcasm was making a comeback in Will's voice. "Think you just scared the shit out of M."
"Mmm." Elizabeth nuzzled James' ear. "Best team around, and she knows they'll listen to you first. And Jack-Holy God. If you ever…she'd have to send those two. Bond and Trevelyan. Wouldn't she?"
"Probably," intruded a familiar lolling voice, which was a bit less lenient than usual. "Though I've got a few strings sayin' MI6's star pair wouldn' be thrilled t'get that assignment. Damn it, Jaime, I told you t'take care of them. Not turn them t'spaghetti."
Will harrumphed and batted at the ankles into the doorway. "Get over it, Jack. You know we look good like this."
Browned hands reached down to pluck him out from the mess and daintily re-hook the pant chains. "'course. But as I wasn' responsible for y'r current state, that means I won' be partakin' of that fine activity any time soon. Which is somewhat frustratin'."
Before James could form any kind of apology or defense, Elizabeth stumbled to her feet and drooped over Jack at the same time as Will. The three of them nearly toppled back to the floor, but fortunately Jack was much stronger than he looked. So he managed to retain a vaguely upright position. Barely. James ruthlessly crushed his chuckles as he got dressed.
"Run." Will seemed on the verge of total blissful unconscious, and his tone was flatter than Gillette's sense of humor. "Run, James. Run while you can."
"Stop that," Elizabeth mumbled. "Wanna see what Jack does to him."
Jack, meanwhile, grunted in thanks as James pried Elizabeth off of him. He warily eyed her as he tucked Will under one arm. "She's a bit too eager-soundin'…I'm thinkin' Anamaria's been rubbin' off on her."
"People say all sorts of things when they're tired," James blandly answered. "I remember you once-"
"-an' that's enough of that. Let's get them t'bed." Without any more ado, Jack lugged Will down the hall. Shaking his head and grinning, James picked up Elizabeth and dutifully followed.
***